The Pianist
by IfYouLovedMe
Summary: He knew her from a long time ago... But he broke her heart when he chose Haruhi. When she came back... Everything changed. HikaruXOC rated m for possible future lemons. :s
1. Chapter 1

**Thorn: Hey people! What's up? This will be my first solo-story online. Yay! **

**Hikaru and Kaoru: And we're in it!**

**Thorn: Yep. **

**Tamaki: What about me?**

**Thorn: Nope, not this one. You're only mentioned briefly.**

**Tamaki: ;;;;;;;**

**Thorn: There will be a time when you may or may not be in a fic. This is not it! So, without further ado—**

**Kaoru: Don't forget the disclaimer.**

**Thorn: Yea, yea…. I do not own any of the Ouran High School Host Club characters. Only my OC Leslie Jenkins. If you haven't watched the whole anime, don't read! Contains end-of-series spoilers! **

Four years was a long time. Four years since she'd seen the inside of the Hitachiin mansion. Four years since she'd seen the boy that had stolen her heart without knowing—before smashing it into a thousand pieces with a few simple words…

Now, to be going back, not invited by _him_ but by his mother, to discuss the branch of the fashion company in the United States, for which she was a consultant… It made the ache in her chest worse. Because it hadn't mattered that she wore beautiful dresses—like the one now, a rich honey gold gown, embroidered in elaborate floral designs around the bottom—or that she herself was breathtakingly beautiful, with long, dark hair that flowed like melted chocolate, or that her deeply blue eyes always revealed her thoughts and emotions. None of it meant a single thing to him. Not when the object of his affections wasn't her, but a girl that had joined the club he had been a part of in high school. He could've never understood how much she wanted to be Haruhi.

There was another thing. Leslie Jenkins had never felt anything more strange in her life—that a girl like Haruhi, that came from nothing, just like her—would be her biggest envy. To have those boys of the Host Club after her, and to be able to do with them whatever she pleased… The sheer thought made Leslie lightheaded with jealousy. What mad it even worse was that Haruhi wasn't at all interested in Hikaru or Kaoru, But they still followed her, even if she _was_ dating Tamaki…

Her thoughts were interrupted when the driver of the limo opened her door. She hadn't even noticed the car had stopped. Climbing out, she refused his offer to carry her bags—she hadn't planned on staying long, so she'd only brought two—and headed to the palatial front doors of the Hitachiin place.

Living in America as a sales representative for Mrs. Hitachiin's company was a rewarding job; always people willing to take care of her, to wait on her hand-and-foot. But she refused to let success make her forget her roots. The elegant dresses, the make-up, the money… She'd much have preferred the old days when her dad had let her wear jeans and a tee and go to normal school. He'd told her things would have to change, though, if she were to take his place as a representative when he retired, and she'd accepted that.

Entering the main hall, Leslie was immediately bombarded by the maids. _Hello! May I take your bags? How have you been? Are you here to see the mistress?_ She didn't know how she managed to get rid of them, or who directed her to the garden…

In the center of the building was an immense open courtyard. Light floral scents drifted in and out of her awareness as she made her way to the benches in the middle of all the plant life, and found Mrs. Hitachiin waiting for her arrival.

Tears stung at the back of her eyes, though whether it was the woman was so beautiful or because the likeness to her son was uncanny, she wasn't sure.

"Leslie. My, my… You're so beautiful… The years have flown, haven't they?"

"Yes ma'am, they have." Thankfully, Leslie's voice was level.

"So much to talk about… Sit, please. Tea?" The woman gestured to a silver pot and cups sitting on the table beside her.

Leslie situated herself on the bench across from her and nodded.

For a while, they discussed business relations; how well certain things were selling, new ideas they'd each come up with, whether or not to keep certain affiliates…It was a more than welcome conversation. Especially since Mrs. Hitachiin hadn't brought up her sons yet. _Yet. _

"Oh, my…I invited you here to talk about more than just business, you know." She paused, taking a sip of her tea. "The piano is still in the music room. The boys won't touch it. Every time I ask why, they say it's because it's yours, not theirs."

_Aaaand, there it is. _Leslie's heart sank as she nodded. She remembered all those rainy days that she ended up with those two boys in the music room, when they would sit and listen to her play, eyes half closed in a semi-drowsy daze, leaning on their elbows on the top of the piano.

The woman cocked her head. "Something wrong?"

Leslie chewed her lip. "It's just… That I, um…"

A long silence followed. Finally, Mrs. Hitachiin said, "You all used to be such good friends. When you left, it hurt them, even if they understood why."

A flare of rage welled up, replacing the hurt, but she suppressed it on the outside. _What a bitter loss,_ she thought sarcastically. I _hurt_ them? _I seriously doubt that. They never cared enough about me to be hurt._

However, she didn't have the chance to answer.

"They're not here at the moment, actually. Took their little sister to the beach for a few days while they're back here for a while. They should be back late tonight or tomorrow morning, though."

_That's right… They followed Haruhi to go to school in the US. Hmp. Not like they'll even want to talk to me anyway. _The thought was more hurt than angry this time.

"I'm sorry. You must be tired. It was a long trip." Mrs. Hitachiin stood. "I'll show you to your room, then."

The last lights of the day streamed through Leslie's bedroom window to where she was sitting, arms around knees, on the bed. The nightgown she wore came only to her knees, and was a thinner fabric than most she owned.

As the sun sank down and the room grew darker, she became uneasy, but was unable to figure out why. Something was drawing her to another part of the house.

She rose from the softness of the sheets and, first poking her head out the bedroom door cautiously, proceeded down the hall. The moonlight streaming through the windows cast long shadows on the walls. Her feet made no noise on the soft carpet as she drifted from room to room, peering into the darkness but not knowing what it was she sought.

The last set of doors she came to were a set at the end of the corridor. Carefully pushing them open, she found herself in an enormous room, surrounded by stained glass windows that ran from ceiling to floor and changed the moonlight to every color she could think of and some that she didn't know the names for.

In the very center of it all was an onyx piano. Almost as if in a daze, she made her way to it, running the tips of her fingers over the coolness of the keys. It had been so long since she'd played… God, she wanted to… She didn't know if she could—it would hurt too much, like every other time she'd tried. And failed.

But the room seemed to calm her anxiety, to release the tension in her muscles. Maybe… Maybe this time she could. Just for a few minutes, if she could possibly allow herself that, before she retreated back into her shell of pain. Not allowing herself to over think it, she quickly seated herself at the bench and placed her feet on the pedals.

And then she began to play. It was soft at first, hesitant. But when she found she remembered everything to her song—the strokes, the beats, the melody—it grew into something more… She couldn't have described it if she had wanted to. Instead, she found herself lost in the notes, her song, _their_ song…

Leslie didn't hear the door open, or see the form step in, closing the door again.

When there was a momentary pause in her music, though, she felt the presence, felt the air become heavier in her lungs, and her fingers hesitated above the keys. Slowly, she looked up and caught the glowing, catlike* amber eyes and her lips moved on their own, even if her voice was barely there.

"Hikaru?"

***Haha, to any of you that have read/watched the Alice in Wonderland episode—you get it! Dumb joke, but, you know. :P **

**Thorn: Okay, thanks, people! R&R. Also, need your opinions! Another chapter or not? Lemon or no?**


	2. Chapter 2

Thorn: Woo-hoo! Chapter two of my first solo fic is coming your way. And so, for popular pick, it will also be my first solo-posted lemon! Please, no flames. And if it's bad, tell me, though. I appreciate it all.

**Hikaru: Lemon.**

**Thorn: Yep.**

**Hikaru: And I'm in it.**

**Thorn: Uh-huh.**

**Hikaru: … … …**

**Thorn: Anyway, I don't own OHSHC.**

Leslie's eyes burned with unshed tears. She didn't know if she could take this. He'd probably come up only to tell her to quit with all the noise.

"I'm sorry," she told him in a quiet, dry voice. There was no longer a desire in her soul to move her fingers over the keys like moments ago. "I shouldn't have been wandering." There was a muffled clicking sound as she pulled her feet from the pedals and stood. "I'll go now."

Thankful he didn't respond, Leslie went to push by him and headed down the corridor, back towards her room. Past the huge windows, the ostentatious décor, the other bedrooms in line with her own. And for a brief moment, she thought she'd made it, too. That maybe she could just lock the door and try to recover the shattered pieces of her heart once again.

At least, until a hand encircled her wrist, another on her back, and proceeded to shove, but not too hard, her into the darkness before she had time to flip the light switch.

The girl spun, eyes lit in rage, ready to absolutely go off on this immature ass and give him the biggest piece of her mind she'd ever given anyone, hoping it _would_ scorch him—but when she looked, she didn't feel anything but a sharp shock in her mind. The fight and color she'd gotten from working herself up simply drained like water in a bathtub.

Because Hikaru was crying. The big dummy was _crying_.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I didn't know… I can't believe I didn't know…"

She didn't know how to react—not that he gave her the chance, as he practically tackled her back onto the bed, his grip knocking the wind out of her. She was left with the boy wrapped around her sobbing her name against the skin of her neck, she herself staring at the ceiling and disorientedly trying to regain some sense of what was going on.

It was a long time before a silence fell over him, and an even longer time before either of them spoke.

_He was upset…Really, truly upset…_Leslie simply couldn't wrap her mind around it. The words just didn't go together the way they were supposed to in her brain.

As she tried to compose her thoughts, Hikaru pushed himself from her and curled in a ball at the end of the bed. After a moment, she rose as well, but did not go to him.

"I loved her so much…" Hikaru murmured, voice rough and eyes down. "I wanted her to love me too… But she picked Tamaki…"

It occurred to her that she didn't know hardly anything about this girl or what had gone on, and found her lips forming the question, before, it seemed, that even her mind knew it was happening.

Immediately, though, words began to flow in nonsense strands off his tongue, shaky stutters frequently interrupting, but getting his points across just the same. He spoke of the first time they'd met her, thinking she was a boy as she stumbled into the Host Club meeting room and shattering an expensive vase; then about how she could tell he and his brother apart, and the winter dance, the spring festival… Summer vacation, and working with her at her job. It seemed to take him so long to figure out his feelings. Kaoru, apparently, had loved her as well, but had given up to support his brother. Hikaru had been crushed when Haruhi had chosen Tamaki, and Leslie had left right in the middle of it. Then, without Leslie knowing until later on, they'd followed Haruhi to America for her college, only an hour from the Hitachiin fashion headquarters where she worked.

Every word made Leslie feel like a more horrible person. She'd thought that it had been a small, trivial crush, and yet she'd been the one stupid enough to be jealous, only to find out how major it had actually been—and he felt like she'd abandoned him when he needed her most. She'd known deep down that she'd hurt him, but hadn't even come close to guessing how deep those wound had really cut.

And she'd been wrong. He'd been in love with Haruhi more than Leslie thought it was humanely possible for a person to love. And while she'd been moping and leaving, he'd been scarred from the pain she'd inflicted. It made her feel lightheaded with guilt.

Crawling to the end of the bed with him, she pulled the strawberry into a rough embrace.

"I'm so sorry, baby. I was so jealous, I wasn't thinking about _you_ like I should've been… I'm an awful person… I don't blame you for loving her… She sounds wonderful…" _And so much better than I could ever be._ The last sentence wavered as the thought crossed her mind, and she prayed that he wouldn't notice.

Slowly, he looked up at her, his next words shocking her more than anything else she'd heard in her life.

"But she'd not you. I loved you first, and I still do… I just thought you never cared about me… You always seemed so…. I don't know… Distant… It just seemed like…" He trailed off into silence.

They stared at each other intently. She'd never realized how the line of his jaw was so straight, or how he smelled so much like the woods. _No forest around here…_The moonlight was so sharp on his eyes that it turned them a startling shade of silver, making her force back a shudder. She became acutely away of the fraction movements he was making to lever himself to her, never averting his eyes.

She wasn't sure who decided first, only that once they started, she couldn't, didn't _want_ to stop. His mouth was intent upon hers, soft yet firm and demanding, all at the same time. And the _taste…_He tasted wild, sweet and sharp like unripened fruit, but still distinctly masculine. His tongue swept over hers, and he pulled her against him roughly, moving so she straddled him.

His hair was soft as she ran it through her fingers, and she shuddered as his hands ran the length of her legs, up under her nightgown to her hips. _Oh, God…_She knew this could be so good if she let it happen.

He broke the kiss, breathless, face flushed, lips parted slightly. To her, there couldn't have been a better sight. Bending to kiss her neck lightly, he whispered,

"Are you sure?"

Dropping her face to his ear, she answered softly, "Yes, Hikaru. God, yes. I'm sure." Her breath turned to nibbles, and she felt him harden under her, earning a soft moan from him. She gave a gasp of a giggle as he fumbled with the cloth of her nightgown, trying and failing to pull it up.

"And who told you you were allowed to do that?"

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion briefly, or, at least, she only saw it briefly, as she sat back up to kiss down his neck, biting lightly, then pulling his t-shirt over his head and returning to her work. And when he attempted to touch her, she pinned his hands to the sheets.

Leslie could tell after several long moments of it that he was going crazy trying to stay silent to make her think it wasn't doing to him what she knew it was, setting his jaw, breathing rapidly through his nose. She smiled to herself, quickly deciding that she _definitely _wanted to be in charge. After all this time of getting what she wanted, she might demand too much too quickly if _he_ did.

Pushing him back against the bed, she took his hands in hers and then wrapped them in the sheets. Starting with the skin under his ear, she left little lovebites down his neck and chest, then slowly trailed openmouthed kisses down his stomach, all the while using the back of her hand to rub the bulge in his jeans.

Hikaru's head shook from side to side, still trying to refuse what she was offering him.

"It's okay to feel, love," she purred, mouth pausing at the waistband of the fabric and slowly undoing the button and zipper. "I want you to feel…"

It didn't take much more, as it turned out. Only to remove all the fabric from both of them that would make her hesitate, and to give him a few light strokes. He inhaled sharply, then groaned, "Shit, Lez…"

Flashing a smile, she crawled up to straddle him. Taking a deep breath and closing her eyes, she slowly slid onto him. It didn't hurt as much as some people had told her, but it was enough to make her freeze for a long moment.

"Leslie?" The word was a rough pant.

Very slowly, she opened her eyes and gave a light chuckle. Her body had already adjusted. "I'm okay… It just hurt a little. I'm fine now…"

He gave a shaky nod, eyes closed, and wrapped his hands on her hips slowly but firmly. Without warning, though, she rose up and slammed her hips back down against his. It sent shudders through her and earned a guttural moan from him. Needless to say, she lost track of everything else but the feeling of him and her, together.

She became aware of a heat in her stomach and a tightening of his muscles, and with a groan in unison, they both climaxed. It was better than anything she'd ever felt, and as she came off her high, she collapsed against him with a soft sigh.

It was quiet for a moment before Hikaru spoke. "… You think Kaoru will be mad at us?"

For the first time in a long time, Leslie gave a real, happy laugh. "Don't take this the wrong way, but _I really don't care._"

**Thorn: R&R—be sure to add how the lemon was. Sorry if it wasn't the best thing you've ever read. First one. Need to know, people! Thanks for reader loyalty as well. J So ni**


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